


Chat Noir's a Model Partner

by therealjanebingley



Series: Masks Off, Heart Eyes On [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Aged Up, F/M, Fashion Show, Fluff, Kisses, SO MUCH FLUFF, Uni age, identity reveal (sort of), smoochy-smoochy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23916403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealjanebingley/pseuds/therealjanebingley
Summary: In a world where Marinette and Adrien never went to school together, where there's no magic keeping Ladybug and Chat Noir from recognizing each other on sight as civilians.Marinette was sure she'd know her Chaton the moment she saw him sans mask, but she did not expect that moment to be at a fashion show. A fashion show he was modeling at, no less.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Masks Off, Heart Eyes On [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925920
Comments: 102
Kudos: 854
Collections: Favourites (BQuincy)





	1. Beauty is in the Eye of Marinette Dupain-Cheng

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cosmic Intervention](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15537891) by [somethingvaguetodo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingvaguetodo/pseuds/somethingvaguetodo). 



Marinette had never been so proud and so nervous at the same time. One year into her design degree, and she was the youngest designer to ever be featured in one of Gabriel's shows. It was a huge honor! And also mind-numbingly terrifying! Sure, her designs had gotten her this far, but what if nobody liked them? What if nobody liked _her_?

"Stop panicking." Her mentor, Veronica, poked Marinette's arm. Veronica was an older woman, a serious designer who had a soft spot for her youngest mentee. She could also read Marinette like a book. "Just focus on the show. It should give you some new ideas for your next project."

The younger woman had to agree. Models paraded down the catwalk, one after the other, displaying some truly inspiring outfits. Marinette's hands itched to start drawing, but she knew it would have to wait. The room was buzzing with quiet conversation as spectators whispered to each other, cameras flashed in the dim lighting...it was everything Marinette had ever imagined and more.

And then something happened that she never could have imagined happening: Chat Noir strolled out onto the catwalk in an outfit of Gabriel Agreste's own design.

Time stopped. 

Marinette always assumed she would be able to recognize her Chaton without the mask, and she was right - she just never thought she'd discover his civilian identity at a fashion event. Where he was modeling the latest looks from her idol.

Her jaw dropped.

Her Chaton, a model.

The moment he stepped on stage, photographers jumped to their feet and followed him all the way down the catwalk, calling for his attention. The crowd twittered, young women in particular staring at him hungrily. Unlike the other models, he walked alone, and stayed out on the catwalk for much longer, posing with the grace and practice of a professional.

Her Chaton, a _famous_ model.

_If you ever saw me without the mask, Bugaboo, you wouldn't be able to resist me._

Time started again. Marinette's cheeks flushed, and she fanned herself absently. Why was the room suddenly too stuffy? And too loud?

She'd always known Chat Noir was attractive - the mask could only hide so much - but Good. Lord. That was nothing compared to seeing him on stage, subtle make-up expertly applied to make his green eyes - he really did have green eyes! - pop, that mop of blond hair arranged just so, stylish outfit perfectly tailored to show off his figure. He looked uncharacteristically serious, but that was her Kitty up there, no doubt about it.

"Admiring the outfit or the boss's son?"

Marinette tore her eyes away from her partner. "What?" 

Veronica raised an eyebrow. "I see you drooling over Adrien Agreste. You're not exactly being subtle."

Adrien Agreste?

Adrien? Agreste?

Son of her idol, Gabriel Agreste?

Marinette stared back at the catwalk. Chat Noir flashed a dazzling smile at the crowd, met by the shrieks of approving women, and made his exit.

Veronica leaned over, sighing. "Don't be too disappointed, dear. He's the featured model. He'll be back."

And he was. In between each new line, Chat Noir swept back on stage in a new outfit. Blazers, suspenders, vests, hats - he looked good in everything. It was so infuriating that it shook Marinette out of her daze. She huffed and crossed her arms. It was just like her Kitty to wind up being the most attractive man she'd ever seen.

The show ended, and she chatted with Veronica as they walked next door for the reception. "I think that went well."

"Me too!" Marinette gushed. "The models did such a good job! Would it be too much for me to send them hand-written thank-you cards?"

Veronica sent her mentee a fond smile. "I think it sounds very you, Marinette."

Veronica introduced her to the head of a fashion house, and then another, and then another. Marinette gathered names and phone numbers and heaps of praise over her designs. She focused to the best of her ability, but once she spotted Chat - Adrien - across the room, she couldn't stop her eyes from flicking back to him every few seconds.

After saying goodbye to another designer, Marinette took a moment to study him. He seemed so subdued here - always nodding, smiling politely, standing ramrod straight with his hands clasped behind his back. If he had to be so picture perfect all the time, no wonder his wild side came out as Chat.

 _Picture purr-fect_ , a voice in her head corrected.

"You're distracted," Veronica said in her ear.

Marinette jumped. "What? No I'm not."

Veronica huffed. "You have been since you first saw the Agreste boy." She sighed. "You are still young, you know."

"Huh?"

"You've done enough networking tonight," Veronica declared. "Go have some fun. Introduce yourself."

Marinette thanked her mentor and inched past the string quartet, past conversations and dancing couples and business deals. She fiddled with the fabric of her skirt, part of a flowy pink dress she'd designed and made herself. The refreshments table was close enough that she could eavesdrop on his conversation without being spotted.

Accepting a glass of wine from a passing waiter, Marinette glanced over at her partner. There were several women hanging off him, all smiling to his face and glaring at each other when his head was turned. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, trying unsuccessfully to untangle himself from their grasps. Marinette recalled a few conversations where Chat had mentioned it was difficult for him to connect with people, because he was never sure if they liked him for him or for what he could offer them. She set her wine glass down, hands clenching into fists.

"-I think that was your best look yet." A girl with waist-length brown hair traced a finger down Chat's - Adrien's - arm and fluttered her eyelashes at him. He stepped back, sending her a forced smile.

"Thank you, Lila." Marinette jumped a little at the sound of his voice. 

"Nonsense." Clinging to his other arm was none other than Chloé Bourgeois, Marinette's former classmate and bully. "Every look is your best look, Adrikins."

Adrien - Chat - plastered on that forced smile again and hunched his shoulders. Marinette's Ladybug instincts kicked in - that was her partner, gosh darn it, and it was her job to protect him. Even from crazy fangirls.

Especially from crazy fangirls.

Another girl spoke as Marinette approached from the side. "Enough chatting," she said, glaring at Lila and Chloé. "Let's dance, Adrien."

Adrien tugged at his collar. "Actually, I - "

"He already has a dance partner."

All eyes turned to Marinette. Adrien's jaw dropped.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" Chloé sneered at her rival. "What are you doing here? Moonlighting as a waitress?"

Marinette flushed under Adrien's gaze, but she stared at Chloé cooly. "I'm one of the featured designers," she corrected. "And I'm here to dance with Adrien." She turned to look at Chat Noir, who was still staring at her, open-mouthed, and offered him a hand. "Shall we, partner?"

He blinked, and then his face lit up in a genuine smile. All but ripping himself away from the other women, Adrien - Chat - took her hand. "After you, my Lady," he whispered. 

They walked toward the string quartet hand-in-hand, drawing more than a few stares. Neither of them noticed or cared. Every other thing that could have held their attention - making connections, pleasing Gabriel, keeping a low profile - seemed so unimportant in comparison with the magnitude of finding each other. 

Keeping her hand - her bare hand! - tight in his grasp, Adrien pulled her close and set his other hand on the small of her back. Marinette's free hand rested on his shoulder. They swayed back and forth, just taking each other in, until she spoke.

"So, Adrien Agreste, huh?"

He grinned a Chat Noir grin. "Nothing but the best for you, Bugaboo."

She rolled her eyes fondly. "It makes me so mad that you were right, you know."

He raised an eyebrow, not taking his eyes off her. "Right about what?"

Marinette stepped closer, circling the arm on his should up around his neck. "I really can't resist you without the mask."

Adrien flushed red all the way up to the tips of his ears. "R-really?" he squeaked.

"Really." She smiled up at him.

He gulped. "So - uh - so you know Chloé?"

"Unfortunately." Marinette's fingers played with the collar of his shirt. "We used to go to school together. As you can tell, we're not exactly on the best of terms."

"I don't think anybody in the world is on the best of terms with Chloé," he said, and she laughed. "I've known her all my life," he confessed. "For a long time, she was my only friend."

"Not anymore," Marinette said firmly. "You can have me and all of my friends."

Chat's eyes softened. "You look stunning."

She ducked to avoid his adoring gaze, flushing. "You're too sweet."

"I mean it," he insisted, pulling her a little closer. "You're easily the most gorgeous woman in this room."

She rolled her eyes. "There are literal models here, Chat."

"I know that, LB." He smiled at her blush. "I like your dress. I thought red was a good color on you, but pink..." he let out a low whistle. 

Marinette smacked his shoulder. "Stop it," she commanded, but she couldn't help a smile. "I made it myself," she offered. 

His eyes widened, and he looked her up and down. "Spin," he said, stepping back, and she spun with a giggle. "Amazing," he breathed, pulling her back to him. "But of course it is, it's you."

Beside them, someone cleared their throat. "Adrien," a deep voice said.

Chat stiffened, smile disappearing. "Father," he said, and his fingers dug into her back as his grip on her tightened. The action sent a shiver down her spine.

Marinette turned to face Gabriel Agreste himself, who was staring at her appraisingly. She remembered a few things Chat Noir had mentioned about his father before - he was controlling, unappreciative, cold - and felt her admiration for her idol dissipate. She stared back at him.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend?" Gabriel asked, his cold eyes still on Marinette.

"Father, this is - "

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She held out a hand, and Gabriel shook it. "I am one of the designers from your show tonight."

"Hmm." Gabriel released her hand. "I know your work. Quite impressive for someone so young."

"Thank you, sir."

"I was unaware you knew my son."

Adrien shifted uncomfortably, but Marinette kept her voice casual. "It didn't seem like relevant information when I applied for the spot in tonight's show."

Gabriel's eyes searched hers, and she didn't back down. Eventually he nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Dupain-Cheng."

"You as well, Mr. Agreste."

Gabriel nodded to his son. "Good work tonight, Adrien."

"Thank you, Father." Adrien watched him walk away, still on edge.

"I don't like your father," Marinette announced, placing her arms around his neck.

His hands found their way to her waist on their own, his thoughts still occupied. "Well I think he likes you," he said, blinking. "He's never that nice to my friends."

She raised her eyebrows. "That was him being nice? That settles it, Kitty Chat. You're living with me now."

His eyes met hers again, and he grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

Marinette's fingers reached up to trace his cheekbone, where his mask would normally be. "Is there somewhere we can go to be alone?" she asked quietly.

His eyes got wide. "Yes. Let's go now."

They walked off the dance floor, his arm around her waist, her hand resting on his shoulder. It was a silent agreement between them - now that they'd found each other, they weren't ever letting go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of writing this again from Adrien's perspective, and maybe following them to see what they get up to after ;)
> 
> Thoughts?


	2. Beauty is in the Eye of Adrien Agreste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, for Adrien's perspective.
> 
> And maybe a little smoochy-smoochy, yes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who couldn't wait even twelve hours to write this from Adrien's point of view? Hint: it was me.
> 
> I tried to do the whole scene again without being too repetitive, so I skipped some of the dialogue. Here's to hoping it works!

Adrien could tolerate photoshoots, but live events with receptions to follow? Not so great. At photoshoots, everyone present had a job. The make-up artists, dressers, photographers, and other models had to be professional if they wanted to be successful. At live events? The public was involved, so all bets were off. 

As the face of Gabriel, Adrien still had to be professional, but it felt like no one else did. They all felt free to bribe and grope and proposition him, using him like a chess piece or a million Euro check or a set of perfectly toned abs. At the first runway he did once he’d turned eighteen, women had thrown their bras on the catwalk like he was the lead singer of a boyband. Thankfully, Gabriel would not stand for that, and security cracked down on it. Nobody had tried it since.

Still, runways always made Adrien want to transform into Chat Noir and cataclysm the whole venue.

On that particular night, the show itself was unremarkable. Adrien put on his fancy clothes, strutted down the catwalk, and returned backstage to change. And then he did it again. And again.

He’d needed a pep-talk from Plagg to psych himself up for the reception – if you could call “Just imagine they’re all pieces of delicious camembert” a pep-talk. Sure enough, old men in suits tried to win his favor in matters he didn’t really care about, and young women wouldn’t stop following him around and touching him. He thought this would be just another tedious and uncomfortable night,

And boy,

Was he wrong.

Adrien managed to escape to the refreshments table to snag some cheese for Plagg. As he perused the selections, much more familiar with the caliber of different cheeses than he really wanted to be, he let himself imagine what it would be like to bring Ladybug as his date to an event like this. Not Ladybug Ladybug, of course, but civilian Ladybug. She would look stunning in an evening gown, and everyone would assume she was a model. Other women would steer clear of him, intimidated by her confidence, and a little terrified of the dangerous look she sometimes had in her eyes. He would make puns and she would tease him. His father would approve of her, because honestly, who wouldn’t approve of Ladybug? Gabriel would give them his blessing, and they would elope on the Eiffel Tower. 

He was just writing his vows in his head when Chloé found him and attached herself to his arm. It was like her presence attracted other women like a magnet. Several appeared, closing in with too-sweet smiles and wandering hands.

“I loved the vest you were wearing at the show, Adrien.” Lila Rossi stood far too close, tracing a finger down his arm in what was probably supposed to be a sensual way, but it just made his skin crawl. “I think that was your best look yet.”

He gave her his model smile and tried to make an escape when Chloé snapped at the Lila, but Chloé’s grip on his arm was too tight. He considered telling her she’d make a good human tourniquet.

Another girl whose name he couldn’t remember, but who had been hovering around him all night, crossed her arms. “Enough chatting,” she said, voice full of authority and eyes full of disdain. “Let’s dance, Adrien.”

 _What excuse will get me out of here the fastest?_ Adrien asked himself, pulling at his collar. “Actually, I-”

“He already has a dance partner.”

Adrien’s brain recognized that voice instantly, even before his eyes could take in the sight of her. _That’s Ladybug!_ His brain screamed at him.

 _I know!_ He screamed back.

 _Say something charming!_ His brain commanded.

But all he could do was stare.

It was Ladybug, of that he was sure – but she wasn’t in her Ladybug suit. She was wearing a soft, shimmery, pastel pink dress that made her look like a goddess. _Aphrodite_ , his brain provided. _Goddess of love and beauty._

 _Yes_ , he praised his brain. _Good job_.

And her face – no mask. He could see every one of her freckles, could kiss every one of them if he wanted to, and he did want to. Her eyes were the same, those bluebell eyes that held him captive. Her hair, usually back in her signature twin tails, fell in loose curls around her bare shoulders. He could have stared at her forever, and maybe he did.

Then Chloé’s sharp voice pierced through his head. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” she asked condescendingly. Adrien felt a flash of anger, but it was quickly overwhelmed with giddy wonder.

Marinette.

Ladybug’s name was Marinette.

“What are you doing here, moonlighting as a waitress?”

Ladybug stared Chloé down without blinking, a feat most adults couldn’t accomplish. “I’m one of the featured designers.”

Adrien’s brain sighed dreamily. _She’s so talented._

 _Shut up and pay attention,_ another part of him said. It sounded suspiciously like Plagg.

“And I’m here to dance with Adrien.” Ladybug turned the full force of her attention back to him, which turned his legs to jelly. He realized his mouth was hanging open, but couldn’t shut it. She held out her hand. “Shall we, partner?”

For a second, Adrien was transported to a rooftop somewhere, looking at Ladybug as she stood in her red and black suit, extending her hand to him, eyes sparkling beneath her mask. His face split into a grin, and he tore away from Chloé to place his bare hand in his Lady’s soft fingers. “After you, my Lady,” he whispered, and he followed her just like he always did.

Ladybug and Chat Noir didn’t usually have much personal space when it came to each other. They’d been pushed together by akumas in a lot of weird ways over the years. But somehow it was different without the suits. Adrien was hyperaware of every point of contact between them: the bare hand he held so carefully in his own, the weight of her other hand against his shoulder, his palm on her back. His skin tingled.

Ladybug fixed him with an amused look. “So, Adrien Agreste, huh?”

The family name that usually hung on him like a weight suddenly felt like a badge of honor. “Nothing but the best for you, Bugaboo,” he crooned.

She rolled those bluebell eyes, a familiar action that squeezed his heart. “It makes me so mad that you were right, you know.”

He almost missed what she said, busy as he was trying to memorize every inch of skin her mask usually hid. “Right about what?”

Ladybug – Marinette – stepped closer. His whole body trembled at her proximity. She was so close, close enough to lean forward just a bit –

His skin burned as her hand trailed from his shoulder to his neck. “I really can’t resist you without the mask.”

Heat exploded in his face, and he knew it must be bright red. “R-really?” His voice was several octaves higher than usual.

 _Smooth, Agreste_.

When other women praised his looks, it made him uncomfortable because that was all they knew about him and all they wanted from him. Ladybug knew him better than anyone else in the world – she’d seen him at his highest and lowest points. He loved her fiercely, and he knew she felt something for him, too, even though she kept her distance for safety’s sake or some dumb, practical excuse like that. The thought that she might actually find him physically attractive made him weak at the knees.

 _Kiss her!_ His brain screamed. _She just said she can’t resist you!_

Instead, he asked about Chloé. Like an idiot. At least he made her laugh – he would do that as often as possible. Her nose scrunched up in the most adorable way when she laughed.

“You can have me and all my friends,” she told him, a protective gleam in her eye.

He melted. _I love you._ “You look stunning.”

He expected her to roll her eyes and push him away, but instead she blushed – blushed! Because of something he said! He managed to compliment her dress, and even sounded smooth while doing it, AND got to learn that not only was she a designer, but an excellent seamstress. Was there anything his Lady couldn’t do?

Only one thing could bring him down from cloud nine – the sound of his father’s voice. “Adrien.”

Adrien felt like he’d been doused in ice water. His grip on Marinette – Ladybug – tightened. “Father.”

He was unsurprised when Ladybug stepped up and introduced her civilian self with all the grace and poise he knew she possessed. She didn’t cower under his father’s cold gaze, and Adrien knew from experience that his father would respect her for it. Gabriel despised cowards.

“I was unaware you knew my son.” Adrien could hear the unspoken words. _Well, well, well, young designer attaching herself to the heir of a fashion empire. Do you expect me to believe your intentions are pure?_

And Marinette met his skepticism with surety. “It didn’t seem like relevant information when I applied for the spot in tonight’s show.” _I’m not interested in using your son to further my career. I will succeed or fail on my own._

His father left, but not before saying “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” when he didn’t usually bother saying anything other than, “I must be going,” to most people. He even added a, “Good work tonight, Adrien,” when he would normally say, “Make sure you say hello to Mr. Rossi.”

And then Adrien was back on cloud nine, arms around his Lady’s waist, listening to her try to protect him as she always did.

Her fingers traced his cheek, and he stilled under her touch. Her bare fingers against his bare face left him breathless. “Is there somewhere we can go to be alone?” she asked.

He legs went weak again. “Yes. Let’s go now.”

He led her away from the crowds, heart beating faster with every step. More than a few women glared daggers at Marinette, and he tightened his grip on her waist protectively.

They ended up in a storage room at the other end of the building. The second the door closed behind them, Marinette grabbed Adrien’s face and kissed him, hard. His whole body went numb. He stood there, dumbly, against her lips. After a moment, she pulled away. “Kitty?” she asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Is this okay?”

“Yuhhhhh,” he managed, nodding fervently. “Do it again.”

She giggled and tapped his nose before kissing him again. This time, he was ready, moving his lips against hers and winding his arms around her waist once more, pulling her flush against him. She made a little surprised noise in the back of her throat, adjusting on her tippy-toes and sliding her hands up into his hair.

He didn’t even try to stop the moan that escaped him as her fingernails scraped against his scalp. She smiled against his mouth, and he tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth, savoring the little sound she made. Slowly, he guided her to the wall, still kissing her deeply, to where a short bookcase sat. His lips left hers for a moment, and she pouted until he picked her up and set her on the bookcase. She squealed. “Chat!”

He hooked his hands behind her knees, tangling them with the fabric of her skirt and pulling her thighs around his waist so their chests pressed together. “Marinette,” he breathed, and he felt her shiver against him. Slowly, he pressed kisses to her jaw, trailing down her neck, his hands sliding up the fabric on her thighs. She arched against him, fingers pressed into his shoulders, breaths coming in gasps. Her legs tightened around him as he spent some time nibbling on her collarbone. Her hands slid down his back, breath hitching as he kissed the hollow of her neck. He dragged his lips up her throat and she moaned, a sound that sparked every single nerve in his body.

“Adrien,” she sighed, and she cupped his jaw, bringing his lips back up to hers. He kissed her deeply, soundly, reverently, tongue prying at her lips. Her hands wound up to his neck, undoing his tie and throwing it aside. He shrugged off his suit jacket as quickly as he could, loath to make his hands leave her body.

As soon as his jacket hit the floor – his father would kill him for not hanging it up – his hands were back at her thighs, gripping them tight and pulling her body closer to his. She moved her lips to his cheek, his jaw, and traced the shell of his ear with her tongue. His body went limp against her and he moaned. She giggled quietly, stroking his hair as she kissed his forehead, his nose, his eyelids.

This was heaven, he was sure of it.

Marinette peppered kisses on his jaw again, hands undoing the buttons on his shirt. Adrien’s breathing was ragged at this point, his hands gripping her hips just to keep himself grounded. As soon as the last button was undone, she pushed him back and slid off the bookshelf. The feeling of her body sliding down against him had him mewling like a cat. She smiled and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to his neck. She wound her way down to his chest, running her hands over his muscles and doing things with her mouth that he was sure would leave marks. He did not care. Every press of her lips, every little bite, every swipe of her tongue, stroked a fire deep in his belly and made his toes curl.

She made her way back up to his lips and their kisses grew heavy and desperate. Her hands tugged urgently at his open shirt, trying to pull it off his arms even as his hands roamed her body, landing on her zipper.

The door banged open and they jumped apart, blinking. “Nathalie?” Adrien asked, his voice hoarse.

His father’s assistant looked shocked for a moment, and then her professional demeanor returned. “Adrien,” she greeted him, resolutely ignoring the fact that his shirt was mostly off and Marinette’s dress was half-unzipped. “Your father sent me to find you. There’s someone he wants you to meet.”

Marinette struggled to rezip her own dress, and Adrien pulled his shirt back on. “How did you find me?”

Nathalie had the good grace to look apologetic. “There is a GPS tracker on your phone.” She turned to Marinette. “Please clean him off before you return him to his father.” Then she left, closing the door behind her.

Adrien frowned. “What does that mean?”

Marinette clapped a hand over her mouth. “You’re covered in my lipstick!”

He looked down at his chest, which did indeed have her deep red lipstick smeared all over it. “Awesome,” he said, genuinely pleased, and she sighed.

One transformation and one lucky charm later, Ladybug was wiping the lipstick off with some make-up wipes. She introduced Tikki to Adrien, who pronounced the little kwami to be the cutest thing he’d ever seen, which made Tikki giggle. Adrien introduced Plagg to Marinette, and Marinette gained the little god’s trust by scratching his ears.

A few minutes later, Adrien was retying his tie as Marinette fussed over his hair and tried to straighten out his jacket. “Will you wait for me?” he asked.

“Nope!” she said cheerfully, looping her arm through his. “I’ve waited long enough. I’m coming with you.”  
  
"To meet boring business people?”

“Kitty Chat, now that I’ve got you, there’s nothing in the world that could keep me away.”

He grinned and pressed another kiss to her mouth. “We’ll be like two cats in a pod.”

“That’s not an expression, Chat.”

“Ooh, I know! Like two kittens in a litter.”

“Wouldn’t that make us siblings?”

“Ew. Uh, like two kwamis in a miracle box?”

Marinette groaned.

“Ladybug, If you think this is bad, you should hear the love poems he writes about you.”

“Plagg!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I've ever written a kissing scene, and I've gotta say, it was fun!
> 
> Thanks for sticking around!


End file.
